Do you feel nothing?
by viciouslittlething
Summary: "She [assuming it was a she] reminded him of someone, with the way she could give an order without being questioned. She was almost like Alexander, capable of giving any order and having it followed through. But she was different from Alexander in the way that she was female and, as he noticed when he opened his eyes, very beautiful." Daniel x OC and slight Daniel x Alexander


_Author's note: I haven't posted in a while, so this is likely to be a bit of a rusty story. I have yet to even update The King and The Trainer, as I can't seem to finish the chapter, but I figured doing a couple of one shots would help clear my brain. As fate would have it, I've been obsessing over Amnesia lately, and this is what came out of my brain. Enjoy!_

"Don't move so much! Mon dieu, do you feel nothing? You will paralyze yourself at this rate!"

The woman's tone was commanding, and Daniel had to fight the automatic inclination to obey her command. When he did fight, however, something slapped his arm with vigor, and he ceased his struggle.

She [assuming it was a she] reminded him of someone, with the way she could give an order without being questioned. She was almost like Alexander, capable of giving any order and having it followed through. But she was different from Alexander in the way that she was female and, as he noticed when he opened his eyes, very beautiful.

Her hair was dark brown and layered, short enough that it touched her porcelain chin. Her eyes reminded him vaguely of the chocolates that Alexander so dearly loved to give him. She couldn't have been a day over twenty, for her face was free of wrinkles, save the small crease between her eyebrows as she stitched up his side. _She must be a nurse,_ he thought._ One of Alexander's nurses._ For a moment, he was almost at peace, and he even smiled a bit, knowing that any minute now Alexander would come in to see how he was doing. His heart, sluggish as it had been, sped up its tempo.

But then he realized that she was not one of Alexander's nurses, and he was not lying in bed, spent after a long day. He was not Alexander's favorite pet, not any longer. He was his nemesis now, as hard as it was to bear. He was in the torture chambers of said man's castle, not his old bedroom, and he was in growing danger every minute he spent on the wet floor of the dungeon. Who knew when the servants would make their appearance?

Yet escape was useless, for it seemed every time he even thought of fighting, the woman fixed him with her chocolate stare, and he stilled. Pretty thing, did she not know the danger she was in? The servants could very well find them, and if the monsters did not, then Daniel would end up hurting her himself. Lord knew he was mad enough to.

"You were wounded very badly when I found you." The woman began unannounced, her voice a quiet mumble, [perhaps she was concerned about the servants finding them after all] and as Daniel listened he picked up a lilting accent. _French_, he decided. _She was French. _Not like it mattered. French people could die too. "A large gash that was noticeable even through this tattered shirt of yours. Rather nasty bump on the back of your head as well, although there's not much I can really do for that." Yes, definitely French, he noted, the fact that her T's were replaced with Z's giving her away as he dazedly stared at her face.

It was not that he held affection for her. He was still blatantly in love with Alexander, although the obsession had gone down a bit since his last meeting with the man. It was that she was helping him, and that he was obliged to help her. She seemed perfectly capable of handling herself, but he was still in her debt.

And as she finished sewing him up, saying that she would have to teach him how to navigate the place, he found that he really didn't mind owing her.

It was later that he learned of her.

She liked to talk at her own pace, her found, sometimes taking long lapses of silence and sometimes never breaking stride at all. She found it fit to tell him of herself as they traveled down a staircase a few nights later, her usually tough and determined demeanor faulting for a moment as she spoke. He had so far learned that her name was Sybil, and that she was from Paris. After that she had simply dropped off the conversation like a useless trinket, falling into silence. He'd grown accustomed to it.

She was innocent; that much he'd figured on his own. Not that she meant to be. Oh, she tried so hard not to be. She put on a tough face and plowed through every situation without faltering, without cowering, but he could detect an innocent soul when he saw one. She was naïve, gullible. Such innocence, and in a way, Daniel was jealous, for Daniel was not innocent. He was sinful. Cruel, vicious, though it was through no fault of his own. And he knew every second spent with her put her in danger, put her under the risk of his bouts of madness, but he couldn't help it. She drew him in, like a flicker of light in the darkness, and he was eager to bathe in her glow.

So when she began to speak of herself that night, he eagerly listened.

"I was taken the night of my little sister's birthday." A shadow crossed Sybil's face, and for a moment, she looked murderous. "A grey-haired man appeared at our doorstep. Offered the trip of a lifetime, or so he called it. Father wanted Helena to go, since it was her birthday and all, but the man wouldn't have it. Took me away instead, telling me I'd be attending an academy fit for a queen. It didn't made sense, but I believe him. He locked me down here, filthy liar, and I've been surviving ever since. Then you came along, after what felt like forever. I found you dirtied on the floor of the dungeon, bleeding all over the place like you'd just been sliced open. So I stitched you up, and now we're here. Mon dieu, how time flies when in the company of others..."

"His name was Alexander."

She paused in her story. "Who?"

He cleared his throat. "The man who kidnapped you? His name was Alexander."

She stopped, turning to face him. "How would you know that?"

He didn't know why he was telling her this. He didn't know why he wanted to give her condemner a name. He didn't know why he didn't just turn and mutter something intelligible, but either way, he didn't. "I was his.." His what? Lover? That wouldn't have been accurate. What they had done was not out of love, at least, not at first. "Friend." That was close enough. Friends usually didn't share beds, or have trysts so frequently that even the servants knew about it, but Sybil did not need to know that.

She stared at him a moment more, her mouth shut tight. She was waiting on him to finish the story, because she wanted to know more, and no one had ever denied her that. He wasn't about to be the first.

"I came here because something was hunting me. _Is_ hunting me. And I thought maybe he could help me." He paused, chewing his lip. "Except he didn't. He corrupted me. Made me evil, made me into a sick thing that tortured innocent people. I wanted to forget, but no amount of Amnesia potion could make me completely forget." Another pause, and he glanced up to find her staring at him with child-like eyes that were wide with innocence. A spike of jealousy stabbed him in the chest. "So now I'm going to kill him. I will kill him if it takes me forever to do."

She took a minute to process, gnawing on her own lip in turn. Servants forgotten, Daniel's decreasing sanity forgotten, they stood and gave each other their pasts, their only possessions, in the hope that they would survive to tell the tale.

But she took a minute too long to think, because a groan was heard from down the hallway, and Daniel slipped into flight mode, Sybil forgotten. His feet carried him to an empty storage room, filled with boxes and barrels, and he nearly rolled into the corner. He could feel himself shrivel with fear, but not for the usual reasons.

Sybil stood out in the hallway, for what reason Daniel couldn't fathom, and he had to smother his scream as a servant walked directly up to her. He wondered if it would be merciful, and even more so, why she did not scream.

And then walked away as if it had not seen her.

Perhaps she was not so useless after all.

The next day they were crammed into a hole in the wall that was just barely big enough for the both of them, boxes clumsily covering the entrance. They could not hide forever, of course, although Daniel would have liked to. It was just a hidey-hole, a place just for the night where they could sleep comfortably and not be disturbed by grunts, disturbed being a moderate word. Except they did not sleep. They lay curled up beside each other, inches from each other but not daring to make contact, swapping stories instead of resting.

It was a stupid decision. They needed their sleep; Daniel had bags under his eyes, and Sybil was so sleep deprived that she stumbled every time she tried to walk straight. But instead of sleeping, they stared at each other emptily, surrounded by the deadly silence. Eventually, it became too much.

"I had a little sister too."

Her eyebrows, grown out instead of plucked like the English ladies that Daniel had seen, lifted.

"Her name was Hazel. I…I used to read to her a lot. She was sick, and I thought that perhaps if I read to her enough, she'd stay alive." His gaze lowered to the floor beneath them. "Our father was unsentimental, to say the least." He swallowed. "I made sure he never beat her, never laid a hand on her. I would have fought him to the death if he tried." In reality, he hadn't ever had to fight; he'd just had to take her beatings for her. But he wasn't looking for pity, so he left that out of the story as well. "She would hate me now."

Her stare never faltered, and eventually he was brave enough to meet it with his own again.

"No." Now it was his turn for his facial expression to shift from shame to surprise, but she spoke again before he could stutter out a reply. "I think she would think you very, very brave." Something in him snapped, and he nearly tackled her.

There was nothing right in the world. Nothing except that one kiss, searing and burning and making lights explode behind his eyes. It beat Alexander's slobbery kisses by a million. The hands behind his neck that yanked him closer were tender, while Alexander's had been rough and unforgiving. And as he held her in his arms afterwards, both their clothes bunched up from the closeness, he thought that perhaps he could defeat the shadow after all.

"Ah, ah, ah, Daniel."

The voice stopped him. He'd managed to push down all of the pillars but the one in front of him, and yet something in Alexander's voice was different. Taunting, almost.

"I believe you have something of mine."

What? Agrippa's head? Sybil had cried when he'd sawed it off, even though she knew that it was for a good purpose. He flinched at the memory. "You will not have Agrippa."

Alexander's laugh was chilling.

"No, my little pet. You will not find it in your inventory. You will instead find it in your heart." Daniel glanced at Sybil. What? In his heart? What could that possibl-

_Oh._

His stare turned icy, and he nearly moved away from the pillar. It all made sense now. "You lied to me! Tricked me..I trusted you!" Sybil visibly moved away at the words, returning to Alexander's side like a dog told to heel. He couldn't read her face, but he wasn't sure he wanted to.

Alexander's smile was strange and demented, not at all the man he'd once been. "That's a good little pet. Always doing as she's told. Obedient little thing."

He couldn't see very well, but Daniel thought he heard a sob as he tossed Agrippa's head into the portal. His last image was of the shadow swallowing him, Alexander vanishing, and Sybil watching helplessly as it then advanced towards her. Then it all faded to blackness.

"There he is. Do you see him Weyer? He deserves so much more. Please help him, I know you can. Don't worry, Daniel. It will be alright."

Daniel paused, glancing back. No, it wouldn't be. Where was Sybil? He needed to at least talk with her. He couldn't leave her behind.

"She is there."

He glanced back over his shoulder towards the lights, at the voice that was not Agrippa's.

"But we are here. It is your decision to make, whether you return to her company or you join us among the stars." Agrippa's voice now, persuading.

But no amount of persuasion would make him turn around.

"So here we are again, mon cher."

It was the same setting they'd met in; him in her lap, her checking him for damage.

"You betrayed me."

She flinched, nodding once. "Alexander promised he would not hurt you."

"He lied."

"Yes, I know that now."

She met his eyes. "You came back, though."

His turn to nod. "Yes, I did."

"Why?"

"They told me you were here. So I stayed."

Was she smiling? "You stayed for me."

He found himself smiling subtly. "Of course I did."

This time, it was she who kissed him.


End file.
